Lukas - 6. Chapter 6

After he got off the tram and trudged home from work, a street schnitzel folded under his good arm, Christoph glanced up and noticed something unusual – his apartment lights were on. That was strange, he thought. They weren’t on in the morning as even the autumn sun should be giving full light to the interior.

It must have been Lukas, he thought. He might have accidentally hit the switch. Though it looked like the lights were on in both the living room and the bedroom, the two spaces that faced the street and had windows. Whatever it was, he’d be home in a moment and would figure it out.

As he opened the door with his good hand, he saw that even the kitchen and bathroom lights were on, which was even more mysterious. Then he got the biggest shock of all: the pile of brown boxes had disappeared, and in its place was Lukas, sitting on the floor, his legs spread out and adding one more screw to what looked like a coffee table, holding it between his legs as he twisted the small torque wrench provided with the furniture.

Around the room there were bookcases, lights, chairs, tables, almost all the furnishings of a new home. He peered into the bedroom – and there was even an assembled bed!

“Lukas! What are you doing!?” he asked, incredulous. Christoph stared at him.

“Oh, hi,” he replied, glancing up at Christoph.

“I thought that you could use some help with this. It didn’t seem right that you had to live on the floor, so I wanted to get you onto some of your furniture. I hope that I put things where you wanted them, especially the bed. I wasn’t sure what wall it should be against so took a guess. I can move it if you’d like it somewhere else.”

“You didn’t need to….” Christoph tried to interject.

“But I wanted to. No one wants to live on the floor, especially if they’ve got something painful like your hand.”

Christoph quickly kicked off his shoes, put the dinner on the kitchen counter, hung up his long wool coat, and approached Lukas. “You must have been here all day!” he declared while looking at the new couch, end tables, and coffee table. He then peaked into the bedroom and saw that the bed and a single nightstand were complete, the bed just needed sheets and pillow covers.

“I didn’t know what linens you wanted to put on the bed, so I didn’t try to guess that one,” he added, not acknowledging Christoph’s astonishment.

“I can put them on, you’ve done… so much already,” Christoph answered.

“There is no way that you can put them on with one hand,” Lukas answered firmly. “I’ll finish this table and then I can get the bed ready.”

“I can do it,” Christoph said.

“No, you can’t!” Lukas answered again emphatically. “I really want your hand to heal. And trying to put on a bed sheet would not help. But if you can go pick out what you want, I’ll put it on.”

Christoph just stared at him again. His eyes started to water up. He turned away for a moment, then looked back at Lukas.

“You must be hungry? There was breakfast stuff here, I hope that you helped yourself,” he said.

“Well, I could use some food,” he answered. One can’t live on Muesli all day, you know,” Lukas replied, smiling.

“Good!” Christoph replied, going into the kitchen and grabbing two plates, putting one on the floor next to Lukas so that he didn’t have to get up and the other next to that for himself. He then went back to the countertop, put a knife and fork in his dress shirt pocket next to his pen before he grabbed the bagged dinner.

“This is schnitzel,” he said as he sat down next to Lukas. You’ve probably had it before since you’ve been here for a while. But this is from a really good street vendor, so you probably haven’t yet had exactly this type.”

Lukas looked at him, then looked away, then back at Christoph. “Is it pork?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s kind of a national dish, or at least the most famous Viennese version,” he answered, smiling.

Lukas paused. “Gosh, it’s so nice of you to offer this, Christoph, especially sharing your dinner. But I can’t eat it. Um…I’m Jewish, and well, I’m not super religious, but I promised my mom before she passed that I wouldn’t eat pork. But thank you so much for offering to share it with me.”

“Oh, no…. I wasn’t sure if you were Jewish but decided that it didn’t matter. I mean, you told me that your parents left in 1938, which in Austria would mean that you were probably either Jewish or a Communist. But you didn’t look like a Communist, so you were probably Jewish,” he said with a nervous smile, unsure if he was going too far.

“But I then remembered that you bought me ham this morning, so I thought that maybe you didn’t have a problem with it and that would mean that your parents were communists,” he continued, chuckling.

Lukas smiled back at him. “I bought that for you, because my uncle told me that’s what Austrian’s eat for breakfast.”

Christoph started re-wrapping the food. “I want you to know that when you and I eat together that we can share everything, and we can’t’ share this,” he proclaimed. “So, what if I scrambled some eggs? Even with one hand, if you help and maybe cut up some onions and stuff like that, we could share a meal.”

Lukas looked at him again. “Only if you promise to let me do the stuff that takes two hands.”

“It’s a deal,” he responded.

                                 ***

Being something of an amateur cook, Christoph organized the effort. Lukas was willing to take directions but pulled utensils out of Christoph’s hand several times when he thought that he was not being careful with his injury.

In any other situation, Christoph would bridle when being told what to do, but it was different with Lukas. When his stepfather would order him to work in the barn or tend the livestock, and then go into town to his favorite corner ‘Kniepe’ (bar) to enjoy himself, everything that Lukas did was just the opposite - to make it easier for Christoph and put the burden on himself.

And there was one more thing: Lukas had removed the light sweater and American-style plaid flannel shirt that he had arrived in. He was only wearing a tight t-shirt with very short sleeves and Christoph could hardly stop himself from looking at the lean biceps that bunched into a tight ball when his benefactor bent his elbow. Lukas wasn’t big by any means, but all the gym time had given him the kind of slim, taut body from which Christoph could barely avert his eyes.

There wasn’t much reason to feel erotic when his hand was throbbing, and Lukas was helping him down the hill. But he couldn’t help but notice how narrow his waist was when he grabbed it to balance and how he himself almost instinctively flexed his bicep when Lukas gripped it for leverage.

It all felt inappropriate at the very least, but nonetheless, he couldn’t help but notice and respond. He even thought that Lukas’ hand had lingered maybe a moment too long on his arm as he helped to steady him on the hill, but then felt embarrassed that he could even think such a thing. Christoph was not vain but was aware that guys and girls called him ‘hunky.’ It was the one tangible benefit he got from being forced to do virtually all the heavy lifting on the farm from the time when he was a young teenager.

He also had to admit that he had noticed how cute Lukas was at the hike. Curly black hair, dark almond eyes. He had seemed a bit lost and innocent, and he still did in some ways. But that smile! It seemed bigger than anyone else’s and here in the small apartment it truly did light up the room as they worked together…

“Christoph…Christoph! do you think die Zwiebel are done?” Lukas asked, awakening him from thoughts.

“Die Zwiebel? Christoph responded. Let me check, but there are two onions, so....”

“Oh…um…yeah, ‘Zwiebeln!“ Lukas answered.

“Yes, correct, at least in this case, but let me see” he said as he peered over Lukas’ shoulder, looking at the steaming pan of onions in butter, “Yes, they look done. Good job. Now, can you put them in with the egg mixture?” he directed, knowing that Lukas would again pull the pan out of his hand if he tried to do it. “And next time use the word in a complete sentence, OK? No Denglish,” he said, smiling.

“By the way, my friends call me Chrisso. You can call me that too if you want. Christoph is a passport name,” he added, keeping up the smile.

“Chrisso. I’ve never heard that nickname, but I like it,” Lukas replied as he poured in the mixture, even more steam rising from the egg mixture as it hit some of the melted butter.

“Oh thanks,” Christoph replied smiling, trying to focus on how the onions were hitting the egg mixture and not get distracted by the flex of Lukas’ outstretched arm with its light dusting of black hair.

On the train ride back from the hike, Lukas had a chance to tell Christoph about his own background, but there wasn’t time for him to ask about his. He took the opportunity as they worked on the scrambled eggs.

He was silent for a moment.

“Are you OK talking about it?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, I am. It’s just…I don’t talk about it a lot. But I would like to tell you. Thanks for asking.”

He didn’t go into all the details, but shared with pride that his father, who had been an Austrian Ski Champion, had participated in the 1936 Olympics. “I wish I knew more about him,” he said, “but he died shortly after I was born. He got shot up on the Russian Front and never really recovered.”

"From what I know, he was a really athletic guy, and well-liked. Same with my mom, but she was also injured in the war in Munich during a bombing after she got drafted into the civilian work service as a Nurse. She recovered, but after my dad died, it was maybe too much for her. She died when I was four.”

He then talked about how his younger uncle inherited the family farm and was not at all a supportive stepparent. In fact, Lukas would call what Christoph described more like child abuse. Lukas didn’t press the questions - maybe some other time, he thought to himself. But it was clear that he had shared this with very few people.

“Fortunately, my mom’s family kind of came to my rescue. One of her sisters had married an engineer and they kind of pushed my Uncle aside and helped manage the small inheritance that I got from my parents that he was squandering. This paid for me to go to a better high school in Innsbruck that got me into the Technical University,” he added.

“My aunt and uncle know about the gay part of me and have been great about it, including my cousins, but my stepparents don’t know, or at least I have never literally told them.”

After the two had finished eating, they continued to talk about Christoph’s family while making up the bed and then then planned on cleaning up some of the cardboard debris around the flat. But after Christoph mentioned as an aside that he had his annual review the next day, Lukas insisted on leaving as soon as they completed the bed.

“You need to be well-rested for something like that, especially for what you’ve been through. But I’ll bring dinner for tomorrow and finish the clean-up, if that’s OK. Then you won’t have to worry about dinner while dealing with all your stuff for the review.”

“And thanks for sharing all that about your family. It doesn’t sound like it’s easy to talk about, so I appreciate it a lot. I’d like to hear more, but only when you’re ready,” he said as he kissed Christoph on the cheek.

As he listened to Lukas talking about leaving, Christoph felt momentarily down, but then brightened up more when Lukas said that he would be back. And that kiss! He didn’t care if he brought dinner or not. That would be a nice gesture, of course. But just the fact that he was coming back and wasn’t scared off by the story of his family was more than enough to cheer his mood.

                                 ***

Performance reviews were always difficult for Christoph. Even though he’d received stellar marks from the time he started at the company during a college internship a decade ago, he could never be sure how it would go each year. Someone could change their mind, or the company’s evaluation criteria might change, any number of things. Or they could find out that he was gay, which was one of his major worries. But he had to face it and resolved to stay as calm as possible.

After the usual introductions and his deflections of questions about his hand, saying it was just a hiking accident where he tripped on a boulder, he steeled himself for the meat of the review as his immediate supervisor, a vice-president, began to speak.

“It was no surprise this year, Christoph, that you continued to shine. Your diligence, hard work and creativity impressed all your colleagues….” he began.

One after the other, it was the same litany of praise. He knew that he couldn’t take it for granted, anything could happen, but he was pleased. Even though he didn’t want to bore Lukas with shop talk, he looked forward to sharing this with him.

“This has been such a good performance, Christoph, that the President would like to see you again and offer his congratulations,” he said looking at his colleagues, who nodded their affirmation. “I think that we, and he, have big plans for you.”

“We’ll adjourn now, but why don’t you head up to his office. He’ll be expecting you.”

It was good news and maybe bad news. It was an honor to meet alone with the president and founder of the company: he was legend both for his engineering prowess and his business instincts. But what if he said the wrong thing or came off like an idiot?

When he arrived in the reception area, the secretary asked him to wait a few moments. She also had questions about his hand. He deflected them in the same way and just tried to chat with her about innocent things before the President’s door opened and he was waived in..

As he reached out to shake hands, the President had to make a quick switch of his own hands to make it a real handshake.

“Excuse me, Sir” Christoph said. I just had a small accident over the weekend, but it will heal soon, and I’ll be back to 100%.”

“That’s good to hear,” the president replied. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning him to one of the soft chairs in the informal seating area of his office.

He proceeded to tell him about all he had heard from Christoph’s immediate supervisors and just wanted to congratulate him on a good year and how he was looking forward to working with him more in the coming year.

Christoph was ecstatic to hear this, especially coming from the President of the company. But there was more.

“I, and the rest of the executive committee, really feel like you’re part of the next generation of leadership of this company. So, I think that you’ll find your responsibilities and duties over the next few years to be expanding and very challenging as the company grows, even going overseas for work,” he added.

Christoph could hardly contain his joy, He had worked hard, had good results, and it had been recognized. It was far beyond his expectations.

After discussing business issues, though, the President returned to looking at his hand.

“How did that happen, Christoph?” he asked, looking directly at him. “They told me that you stumbled during a hike in the mountains.”

“Yes, that’s right. Like I told Herr Schmidt, I was just clumsy and tripped up on the trail.

The President gave him a strange, skeptical look.

“Did this happen on Saturday?” he asked.

It was an odd question, Christoph thought. He couldn’t imagine why he would care, but he answered ‘yes.’

The President paused, then asked, “if this question is too personal, let me know, OK?”

“Of course,” Christoph responded, but he was now getting nervous about how he could evade anything to ‘out’ himself.

“Were you with the Blaugebirgverein?” he asked.

Christoph swallowed. How did he know? Christoph knew how to be discreet in business situations and give soft or evasive answers to difficult personal questions. But he couldn’t avoid this question - it was too direct. He now felt that his whole career, all the good words, was on the line. He could almost feel the sweat start pouring off him. But, for the first time, he felt like he needed to step up and be honest about himself.

“I…I was, sir. And I must tell you, that I’m not ashamed of being gay and belonging to that group, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t know how it will affect me here, but I can’t deny it.”

There was a long pause when Christoph thought the world might be crashing down on him. Until he heard him speak.

“I’m not ashamed of being a member either, Christoph,” the President answered.

‘What did he just say?’ he asked himself.

“You, too?” Christoph could barely croak out.

The President subtly nodded.

“How did you know to ask me, to know that I had injured myself there?”

“Your friend is Lukas Richter, yes?”

“Yes, Lukas,”

Well, my ‘nephew,’ as I call him, is the same Lukas Richter. You know him, yes?”

Christoph’s eyes bulged open. “You’re his ‘Uncle Sev?’”

“Yes, that’s me. And he told me all about what you did for him on the hike. That was a great sacrifice on your part, Christoph,” he said, his voice clear and firm.

“Oh, I didn’t do that much - anyone would have done it. I was just the closest person to him, that’s all. And he only fell because he was reaching out to help a guy who himself had tripped. But besides all that, he’s the one who really helped me,” he protested.

“What do you mean?”

“He practically carried me down the hill, even though I’m bigger than him. He took up my rucksack and carried it, along with supporting me. The worst was, he passed out when we got to the first aid station, he was so exhausted. They had to give him intravenous fluids.”

Severin sat up in his seat. “Really? He didn’t mention that to me. He just said that he was a little tired at the end and that you foolishly asked them to take care of him first. He wasn’t happy about that.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” Christoph responded. “I’m beginning to realize that he always plays down how much he does.”

“Maybe he’s not the only one who does that,” Severin replied, quietly.

They spoke for a few more minutes about the hiking group, Severin sharing some of his memories and talking about people like Sascha that they now realized they knew in common. What was supposed to be a 15-minute meeting stretched out to almost 45 minutes, a huge amount of time for an important executive like Severin. It only stopped when his secretary gently knocked on this door and poked her head around the door, reminding him of an upcoming overseas phone call.

“Ok, thank you,” he said to her, “I’ll join in just a moment if you can ask Herr Muller to start the call and send it in.”

“Yes, Herr Wagner,” she replied before withdrawing.

As Christoph got up to leave, Severin said, “Could I ask you a personal favor?”

“Yes, of course, sir” he replied. He couldn’t imagine what he could ever do for the president of the company,

He looked at Christoph. “I have no right to ask you this, and don’t want to invade your private life.”

“Whatever you need, sir.” Christoph responded, perplexed.

“Lukas is new to this whole gay world and needs a trustworthy guide. You know the predators out there,” he said, astonishing language coming from someone like him.

“So, look out for him if you can. He trusts you, probably more than you know, and I trust you, too. Your relationship with him is none of my business, of course. But I also ask that you be gentle with him. He’s never been …in this gay world… and might be very vulnerable. That’s all,” he said as he walked Christoph to the door. “I don’t want to presume too much, so I’m sorry if this seems intrusive.”

“No, not at all, sir. I like hearing that, and I guarantee that I’ll do my best with him. But can I ask you a favor, sir?” he said, regretting the words after they came out of his mouth. What he wanted to ask was way too personal. But it was too late now.

“Of course, Christoph. What would that be?

“Would you put in a good word for me? Tell him I’m a good person?” It sounded horrible when it came out, but Severin seemed to understand.

“I will, but I don’t think that he needs to hear that from anyone,” he responded.

                                 ***

“This is like a little village in this town,” Christoph remarked after he told Lukas about his meeting with Severin, “at least within the gay community.”

“Did you have any idea that he was gay?” Lukas asked.

“No, not in the least! I knew that he wasn’t married, though I wasn’t sure that was always true, he could have been divorced. To be honest, I remember once kind of fantasizing about it, a gay guy leading a major company in the next generation. What a role model, to lead a company, like I’d like to do some day,” he replied. “I know that sounds kind of pretentious, I guess,” he added, unsure of how it sounded to Lukas.

“Well, it sounds like the company doesn’t think it’s pretentious. And I sure don’t think so, either. In fact, they are clearly grooming you for bigger things.”

“I hope so,” he replied. “I was very excited after the review, then momentarily very depressed when I confessed to Herr Wagner that I was gay, but then even more excited when he told me that he was gay, too.”

“You know, I tried to play down who he was and didn’t mention much besides his being a high school friend of my dad’s. I guess I didn’t want to invade his privacy, or anything like that,” Lukas said.

“Which was the right thing to do,” Christoph added. “We were lucky here, but if he was ‘outed’ to the wrong people it could be really bad.”

“Yes, I know. But now that you know about him, I think that I can tell you why my family felt such a strong connection to him. I’m even named after him,” he said, looking directly at Christoph. “Lukas Severin Richter here.”

“That is incredible! Your dad and he must have been really close.”

“They were,” he responded, as they settled into the newly put together chairs of Christoph’s apartment.

                                 ***

Proceeding carefully, at first, not wanting to push too hard, Christoph started the touring around Vienna in the time left before the arrival of Mr. Richter. He felt like he had made himself hypersensitive to any hesitation on Lukas’s part, but Lukas was all-in for everything that he suggested and had a few ideas of his own, which Christoph was happy to accommodate and plan around. He wasn’t completely familiar with all the places that Lukas asked about, but quietly researched them and asked people at work so that he could be a knowledgeable guide.

During the first weekend they spent almost an entire day walking completely around the Ringstrasse, the site of the old city walls that were demolished in the early 19th century to create a monumental promenade around the central core of the city. While Lukas had already visited various buildings on this boulevard, he was excited to walk the entire length and really get a feel for the city.

Subsequent weekends, they toured some of the less touristy districts, focusing on one or two a day to get a real feel for the neighborhoods, jumping on and off trams to get to as many places as possible.

They used it as an opportunity to see museums and galleries and taste their way around the city. In the evening, they’d return to Christoph’s apartment for dinner and, more often than not, talk for hours. But Lukas always returned at night to Uncle Sev’s house.

During one walk they met up for lunch with Katerina, or ‘Kat,’ a fellow engineer, one of Christoph’s oldest friends whom he had met during their first year of college. Although he couldn’t respond to her crush on him, they stayed friends through all the years with him supporting her as one of the few women at the Technical Institute at that time and since.

The next day, a Sunday, while Lukas was helping Severin move some large plants in his garden, Christoph met up in the same Viennese coffeehouse that they had met with Lukas.

“Well,” she said as the waiter put down their cups, along with the Sacher Tort that they always shared. “Are you looking for my opinion?” she asked as she cut it for both.

“Your opinion of what?” he responded, spearing his first piece of the cake.”

“You know what!” she answered.

He sighed. “Well…I don’t, I mean…I can’t say anything right now. I’m not sure what’s going on and anyway he’ll be going back home about the time I get the cast off.”

“I thought that he was going home when his dad came?”

“He was nice enough to stay to mid-November, but I don’t want to read too much into it. We haven’t talked about anything yet, I mean us. We just do stuff together and enjoy the time. At least I do. A lot,” he replied, sighing.

She took a piece of cake herself. “Do you want my opinion?”

“Yes, since I know that you’ll give it to me anyway,” he replied with a smirk.

“Well, here goes. Your relationships never last long, Chrisso, and for good reason. You seem to attract losers and assholes. I hate to be blunt, but you know it’s true. That’s why you break them off so quickly. Yes?”

He sighed. “Maybe it’s my fault. I just go after the wrong kind of guy.”

“That may be part of it, but here’s what I think. Do you want to hear it?”

“Why do you even ask?” he answered with a half-smile.

“You are a good-looking guy, Chrisso. If your hair were a little blonder, less brown, you would have been on a National Socialist poster as the perfect Aryan male. That’s not a terrible thing, of course, but virtually every gay guy, and of course women, will throw themselves at you. You’re a stud. But you’re also very smart, at least book smart,” she chided him, “and you have great career prospects. That’s all the good stuff.”

“I’m not sure I agree with all that but go on.”

“But you had a tough upbringing. Your stepparents weren’t, let’s say, the nurturing or supportive types. But you yourself, for whatever reason, are just the opposite and you are that type of nurturing and good person yourself, ironically enough.”

“Yes?”

“And that makes you vulnerable for exploitation by the jerks and assholes who just want you physically or for your potential, and I emphasize ‘potential,’ money earnings,” she added.

“They try to figure out how to use you, flatter you. You’re smart enough, or maybe just real enough, that you always realize at least belatedly that these losers can’t give you what you need. But you fool yourself long enough because you want it, I mean affection, companionship, whatever, so badly.”

“You might not be far off, I think, maybe,’ he replied to the harsh statements that had some clear truth to them.”

She took a sip of coffee, then put her cup back down.

“Which brings me to Lukas,” she said, pausing. “This might seem like an odd criterion, but Lukas was the only one of the so-called friends, or lovers or whatever you called them, who paid any attention to me, who actually acknowledged that, across the table, there was another person.”

“What do you mean?”

“All of the others ignored me. They just wanted you and not you the person, but your body, your looks, potential money. Remember that one guy, he was trying to play with your crotch the whole time that we had coffee.”

“Oh yes…Ludwig…that guy…” he answered, slumping down a bit in the metal bistro-style chair.

“Then there was the guy who kept putting his hand in your shirt. He would smile and look at me and laugh, but he only wanted what he wanted.”

“Gunter… Gregor, I think his name was something like that,” Christoph said, regret in his voice.

She went on citing several other incidents. “You can’t even remember their names! But the point is, they didn’t care about you as a person. They didn’t care about your friends, who, I would like to think, have earned veto power over your romantic choices,” she added. “You understand what I’m getting at?”

“Yes, I think so, though later we can discuss veto power,’ he responded, looking her in the eye, another slight smile on his face.

“Now I agree with you,” she added, “you don’t know where this relationship is going. But I’ll tell you, his interest in you is as a person, not as an object, and it includes your friends just because they are your friends.”

“He, of course, asked about how we knew each other to get background info on you” she said, glancing down at her plate, “but he also asked me what I do, how I like the work, things like that, things that didn’t have anything to do with you. Again, he realized that there was a real person sitting across the table.”

“And you know what else?” she continued. “He’d excuse himself when he had to discipline you about doing too much with your hand.”

“I remember that. I’m getting better, but whenever I’m with him I must be perfect. He will tolerate nothing else.”

“When I cut the torte earlier? I wouldn’t have thought to do that except that I remembered that he did it for the one that you two shared.”

“That’s true,” Christoph replied. “He does all sorts of stuff for me. I must be careful that he doesn’t take on too much, like when he passed out at the end of the trail when I got hurt. But that’s the person he is.”

She shook her head in agreement. “And, of course, none of this has anything to do with the fact that he’s really good looking and has a great body.”

“How can you say that, Kat?” he feigned protesting. “You know that I’m 100% spiritual,” he joked, smiling at her then looking away.

Then he took a deep breath, rocking his cup with his good hand.

“I have to admit that, yes, he really is handsome. Like ten times better looking than any guy I’ve ever seen,” he added. “When he smiles at me…”

“Which is like, all the time!” Kat interjected.

“…Like I was saying, when he smiles at me, it practically knocks me over.”

“And he has a nice body, yes?”

“I’ve never seen him with his shirt off, but his arms…wow…they are really nice and…” he started, then caught himself.

“What am I telling you about this stuff for!?” he protested.

“I knew I could draw that out of you! I knew it!” she said as they both laughed again.

But as Christoph sat back in his chair, his tone suddenly changed.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“You know, I feel like I’m in the water, at the edge of a vortex, and it’s pulling me in. Not that I don’t want to be pulled in…but I don’t know where it’s going. I don’t know if he’s going to stay, or what could happen. I don’t even know if he feels anything like the same way towards me.”

“I can’t say it for sure of course,” she interjected, “but from I could tell, if he doesn’t feel like you feel, it’s surely something close to it.”

“I wish I could be sure,” he responded, “But the only thing I really know now is that I can’t stop thinking about him.”